A Very Sterek Christmas
by TobiasRosetta
Summary: It's actually snowing in Beacon Hills, and it's got everyone out of whack. Out of the kindness of his own heart, Stiles decides to take some things up to the the old Hale Mansion for old Sourwolf himself. But when the storm kicks up and snows them both in, the night takes an interesting turn. Warnings: This story is rated M for Mature content. Gay Sexy Times.
1. Chapter 1

It had been years since Beacon Hills had snow, let alone snow on Christmas. The town was at a higher elevation, so despite being in a warmer state like California, they still managed to get some of the white fluff occasionally. This Christmas was like magic. Weird things had been going on in Beacon Hills the past year, but somehow, when the cold settle in, and the ground started to blanket, the town underwent another transformation. It felt like a real holiday, despite all of the murders that had been looming over the small town. With all of the schools released for the winter holidays, kids littered the streets. Building snowmen, sledding, having snowball fights. It was like something out of a movie. But the biggest thing that Stiles Stilinski cared about was that it was cold.

It was the first time he'd ever put snow chains on his jeep. That had been a bit of an experience. His dad had ended up doing it for him. Scott was off, being oblivious, and happy, with Isaac. Oh, they weren't dating, no. They were just hanging out, as friends. You know, friends that make eyes at each other, and generate enough UST to power a factory of fan girls for a year. It was infuriating.

Okay, not really, but it did suck.

Ever since the Kanima had been resolved, and Scott had been dumped by Allison, his wolfy friends were slowly getting closer and closer.

"What the… C'mon!" Rolling his window down, Stiles leaned out to yell at the cars ahead of him. "COME ON! IT'S JUST SNOW, NOT SHARDS OF GLASS YOU IDIOTS!" He called out exasperated, leaning back in with a sigh as he swiped the wetness from his skin, hurrying to get his window up again. He was 4 cars away from the traffic like, and people were driving like snails. Honking his horn a couple times, the teen was exasperated. "I might as well turn my car off and wait, Jesus Christ… This isn't even anything compared to the hills…" Trailing off, Stiles' eyes flickered to the snow-capped tree tops on the hills that surrounded the town. Their namesake. There had to be about a foot of snow up there, in the woods that he and his friends spent entirely too much time in. Around the Hale property.

"No! Dammit! You are not going to think about that asshole and his furry white butt shivering all alone in that half charred mansion that has like, no insulation or means of heat…." Driving through the 4 way stop as he spoke to himself, Stiles huffed, already knowing what was going to happen.

After an hour of intense arguing with himself, and furious packing, the hyper kid was pulling up to the picturesque house. For a moment, he sat there, staring at the remains of what had to have been an amazingly beautiful home, when it was still intact. He could almost imagine it whole, and full of life. Derek had once said that a large number of his family had lived there. Kids, adults, aunts and uncles, cousins, him… He tried really hard to not feel bad for Derek. The guy was an asshole. Sure, he had a circumstance to excuse it, but that wasn't any excuse!

Okay that made no sense. Whatever.

Sighing, Stiles finally wrapped his scar around his neck and the bottom of his face, shoving his door open before grabbing the large, overstuffed garbage bag, and backpack. "Stupid…. Freakin…werewolf jerk… "He grumbled, his breath chilling the fabric of his scarf, against his face, defeating the purpose. "He owes me… SO big…" Knee deep in snow, Stiles shut his jeep and locked it, dragging the bags with him as he cut a path through the snow, up to the front door of the Hale mansion. "COMING IN, SOURWOLF! I HOPE YOU'RE DECENT, AND GRATEFUL!" He hollered into the house once he'd shoved open the door, tossing the bags inside before shaking off on the porch, and stepping in, as well. For a moment, it was quiet. Looking around, Stiles sighed, his shoulders dropping a bit.

"Or you could be not home. That totally works out too." He snapped quietly at thin air.

"What are you doing here, Stiles?" Jumping, the teen boy had been in the process of turning back around, to head out to his jeep and leave, when Dereks voice cut through the air. Stiles swung back around, mouth open as if poised to answer, but lacking any words.

"Iiiiii… Ah…. Heh…" Smiling and rubbing at his red nose, he shuffled his feet a bit. "Ho ho ho? I come… bearing gifts?" He tried at last, feeling the lameness of his finish, and sighing. A hand came up to smooth down his knit cap on the top of his head. Stiles had been pointedly looking everything BUT Derek, until the silence became too much, and he let out an exasperated sigh. When the teens coppery eyes turned onto Derek at last, he took note that the wolf was fully dressed. Jeans, shoes, presumably underwear-_no stop thinking about his underwear dammit!_- a sweater, and his leather jacket. His nose was a little red from the cold too though. Immediately, Stiles felt some of his exasperation seep out of his bone, looking at the confused, almost wary expression on the Alpha's face.

"What are you doing here?" Derek reiterated, stalking forward a few steps. Swallowing and opening his mouth, Stiles finally started to move again, in his token jittery way.

"I-I might have been a little worried about the big bad wolf up here in the cold all one and stuff so I brought some blankets and candles and firewood and stuff. The wood's still out in my jeep, but there's blankets and candles and some food and stuff in that bag. I wasn't sure if you'd be stocked and prepared for tonight, so… yeah…. I know it's stupid, and you probably don't want help from some stupid kid like me, but dammit I'm doin' it anyway so just…. Suck it up and say thanks!" Wow, that had turned into something other than what he'd wanted to say. How hard was it to say, 'I was worried, I brought you some stuff.' Apparently too hard. Because now Stiles was standing there, in silence again, shaking a leg as he chewed on his tongue. Silence again.

"Alright, well… Merry Christmas." He said finally, turning and opening the door to head out. He wasn't even on the porch when Dereks figure breezed past him, heading to the car. Opening the trunk himself, the mysterious werewolf started pulling out bundles of firewood, pausing for only a moment to look at the boy who was gaping at him.

"Are you gonna help me or what?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, as he carried in 2 bundles per arm.

"Wha- Oh! Yeah! Y-yeah sure!" Scrambling through the snow to his jeep, Stiles grabbed two more bundles, trudging back up towards the house. By the time he got inside with his load, Derek had been in, and out again for the last 4 bundles.

"I shut your jeep. Close the door and come help me start a fire." Derek ordered as he stomped the snow off of his boots, and stalked inside. Stiles swallowed hard, glancing back at the heavy, grey clouds. They were obviously in for another big storm tonight.

"I hope it holds off till later…." He muttered quietly, before kicking the snow off of his own shoes, trying to imitate Derek. He only ended up kicking the floorboards too hard, and cursing as he nudged the door shut behind him, looking around. "I love how you've decorated for the holidays. Very Ebenezer Scrooge. Maybe I should hire you next season to do my place up too." _God why can't you just shut up Stiles!_ He thought to himself, sighing as he walked in down the hallway, through the door that Derek had come through earlier when he'd first arrived. It was a part of the Hale mansion he'd never been inside of before. Looking around curiously, and swallowing thickly, he could almost hear the horror music in his ear.

Pausing in the hallway, he looked around, confused and about to call out for Derek, to ask where he'd gone, when he heard boots shuffling in the room directly to his right. Opening the door, Stiles looked in, relieved to see Derek, and not some creepy monster lurking. That was the last thing they needed today. Stepping into the room, Stiles was actually surprised. It seemed like this room had hardly been touched by the fire. The windows were intact. It was probably the warmest room in the whole house, honestly. That wasn't saying much, though. At the moment at least.

"What is this room?" The boy asked as he finally walked in, taking to fill the silence as he went over to deposit the wood bundles onto the stack of the ones Derek had brought in with him.

"It was the library." The Alpha replied. At first, Stiles did a double take, surprised that the man actually had answered him. Normally Derek answered no one's question, except Scotts after the kid had screamed it at him a few times.

"Oh, that's cool. No books though. Not much of a library." He replied, glancing around as he rubbed his hands together to warm them. He could hear that familiar heavy exhale, and immediately the mental image of Dereks nostrils flaring just a bit with the action popped into his head.

"There used to be, smartass. " He replied, stalking over to the fireplace. There were some charred embers in the hearth, but it had been a while since they had been burned, so Derek used a fresh piece of would to stamp them down and break them, making room for him to build up a new fire. A lighter appeared from his pocket. "Hand me one of those newspapers."

Stiles spun around to search for the papers Derek was talking about, doing a full 360 before he saw them, and grabbed a stack, carrying them over. Using them for tinder, the wolf used his lighter to light up a few clumps of crumpled up newspaper, setting them in amidst the fresh, dry wood. The floo on the chimney was broken, permanently open, so he didn't have to worry about that. After a few moments, the fire finally caught, and was starting to grow. There was visible relief on Dereks face. And for another long moment, there was silence.

"Okay then… Well… I'm gonna go, so you have yourself a nice evening, enjoy the snow, keep warm and all that stuff…."

"Thanks."

"What?" Stiles ramble was cut short by Dereks blunt voice. It didn't have its normal curt edge, which was what caused his double take, initially. Sighing, Derek stood up from where he'd knelt by the fireplace, looking down at Stiles.

"I said, thank you. You didn't have to do any of this. I was braced for an uncomfortable night. But this will help a lot. I don't really understand why you decided to do this, since all I ever do is threaten to kill you, but… I appreciate it." Stiles was speechless, for a moment, before finally, he let out a half-chuckle, and shook his head.

"You don't ALWAYS threaten to kill me. Sometimes you save me. There was that one time, you know… Ah… Honestly, I don't think you're all that bad of a guy. If you tell anyone I said that I'll deny it though. I mean, you're just a little rough around the edges which is completely understandable. You've kinda had a shitty life so far, what with the fire, and you crazed uncle, and your sister and the Kanima, Jesus how many times did you get paralyzed? Not to mention the fact that I almost drowned you one, and you know, I really could have left you at the bottom of that pool but I figured why waste a perfectly good Alph-"

"Do you know how to just be quiet and say, you're welcome?" Derek asked. It wasn't as much of an insult, as it was an honest question. There was a look of awe on the mans face. "I mean, seriously… I don't think I've ever met anyone who talks as much as you do. And what are you doing now?" In the middle of Stiles rant, his body had gone onto auto pilot, falling to the undeniable urge to move, and do something. So he'd opened up the two big garbage bag of things he'd brought with him, unloading it. There were maybe 10 candles, a plastic bag of food, and three thick, warm looking blankets.

"I'm unpacking the stuff I brought. Is there a problem with that?" Stiles asked incredulously. Derek shook his head, walking over to take the blankets, setting them onto the large, over stuff leather couch. It was an old piece of furniture, and covered up with a sheet at the moment. But it was definitely big enough for a large guy like Derek to sleep on.

"This is a lot of stuff…" He said quietly. The Alpha wolf felt humbled. Honestly, since Laura had been murdered, he'd been dreading this Christmas. It'd be his first one alone. Truly alone. At first, he'd counted on at least Isaac being around, but Scott had invited Isaac to spend the holidays at his place. They'd become pretty tight friends. Derek knew that even though he'd been the one to change Isaac, Scott was the one Isaac wanted to follow. None of his pack was here, and he felt the staggering weight of it. "Am I a bad Alpha?" He asked quietly, not realizing he'd said it out loud.

"What?" Stiles asked, leaning in as if to hear better.

"Huh? Oh… Nothing, sorry. I was talking to myself." Derek covered quickly, straightening up as if nothing had transpired. "This should get me through the rest of this storm." He announced.

Staring at Derek, Stiles frowned a little, examining the mans face. After a moment, he decided that he couldn't leave yet. Walking over to the fireplace, Stiles knelt down next to it, warming his hands.

"…What are you doing?" Derek asked. His previous statement had been a pretty obvious dismissal. "Aren't you going to leave?"

"Uhhh rude." The teen replied, glancing over at Derek. "I'm warming up before you so ungraciously shove me back out into the snow, to brave a treacherous drive down the hill to go back into town. You know, I probably risked my life coming up here to see you." A half second pause. "Hey, where did you park your car? It's probably not a good idea to leave it out under so much snow."

"I… My car's fine I have it parked somewhere safe. Do you not have snow chains on your jeep?" For a moment, Derek really was concerned. Stiles jeep wasn't exactly in its best shape. Stiles looked insulted.

"Of course I have snow chains. I'm not stupid. And despite hanging around you and your wolf-butt friends, I don't have a death wish, you know!"

"Really? Could have fooled me. For a regular human, you sure have a shitty survival instinct." Derek replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Um, excuse you! I have a perfect survival instinct. It's always going off, telling me to run. I'm just… a rebel. I don't like being told what to do." Derek let out a bark of a laugh.

"That's one thing we can agree on. You suck at taking direction, and following the rules. I don't envy your father." Normally, that would have gotten a sarcastic quip right back without pause. But the comment about his father hit home. Stiles had lied to his father so much, nearly cost him his job… Licking his lips quietly, and lowering his head, the teen nodded.

"Yeah… I don't either." He muttered, before clearing his throat and standing up, deciding he was warm enough. "Okay. I'm gonna head out before it starts snowing again. Are you gonna be here alone? Boyd and Erika aren't coming around?" Derek just looked at the fire, his hands in his pockets. His face was impassive.

"They're spending the holidays with their families, as they should. I'm an adult, Stiles. I'll be fine here on my own." For another tense moment, those words lingered, and Stiles nodded, and turned.

"See ya later, then. Don't turn into a wolfcicle. "

Heading out to the front door, alone, Stiles bundled himself back up, bracing himself as he opened the front door. Or rather, he unlatched it, and a hard gust of wind slammed it open, right into his face. Crying out and staggering backwards, cursing, Stiles was holding his now bloodied nose, blinking through the tears of pain. "Fuck!" He gasped out, looking out the front door. It was like a full blown blizzard outside. He could hardly see his jeep through the thick snow falling, whipping around in the hard wind.

"Why do I smell blo-Shit! Stiles!" Derek rushed over to where Stiles was doubled over, trying to wave him off. Derek first jumped forward to close the front door, latching it against the storm that had kicked up out of seemingly nowhere.

"I'm bine! I swear. It's okay." Stiles gasped out gently. The bigger man grabbed his shoulders, making him stand upright, to look over his face. There was blood streaming down from his bright red nose, tears in his eyes. The sight pulled a growl out of Derek's throat. He dragged Stiles with him into the kitchen of the house. It was still mostly in tact as well, with plywood patched over the vulnerable spots. Grabbing a few paper towels, he carefully dabbed at Stiles face until the blood was gone.

"Whads da diagnosis, doc?" Stiles asked, breathing through his mouth.

"Well… I don't think it's broken. At least not a clean break. It might be fractured, but it's still straight."

"Oh dank gob. I wud 'cared I wud gonna loode all by goob look." Stiles managed to get out with a cheesy grin, being careful to not breathe through his nose.

Derek grabbed a few more paper towels, guiding Stiles back to the library, which was finally starting to get warm and toasty. "I don't think you're going anywhere, Stiles. Not with the weather like this. I mean, you could try to call someone with a snow mobile to come and get you, but it's going to be dark soon, and it's just not safe."

"Oh ban… by dad id gonna be doooo bidded at be." He groaned, in his now nasally voice. Pulling out his cell phone. "Dank gob…" He had no service, but he had his 4G. Stiles shot off an email to his dad, explaining that he was snowed in at his friends, and was safe, but he wouldn't be home till the next morning, if the weather cleared up. He added in that he didn't have any cell service, but he had some internet, if the other needed to try and contact him.

Holding the paper towel to his nose, Stiles watched Derek, who was sulking near the fire. "Dorry bor ruining your robantic ebening alone." The other male actually chuckled a little bit at that. Glancing over at Stiles, Derek sighed. The boy was shivering, still. This didn't surprise him. Wolves ran hotter than regular humans. Walking over, Derek pulled the scarf off of Stiles, and his jacket too, before draping one of the blankets that had been warming by the fire over him.

"Bundle up, kid." He ordered, plopping down onto the other side of the couch. Stiles looked at Derek in confusion, his mouth gaping open to breathe more easily. It took him a moment to obey, but he did pull the blankets tighter around him, curling his legs up onto the couch as well after he'd kicked off his shoes. For almost an hour of silence, something Derek thought impossible considering his current company, Stiles curled up on his phone, emailing with his dad to assure him that he was okay, and NOT getting into trouble. A great deal of that time was spent convincing the Sheriff to not come looking for him. Derek broke the silence, though, by getting up to put some more wood on the fire, before coming back to the couch.

"You're not a bad alpha." Stiles said, out of the blue, finally, looking over at his companion. It seemed the swelling in his nasal passage had gone down enough for him to talk normally, at least. Derek glanced over, a dangerous glower on his expression.

"Who asked you?"

"Well, technically you did, early. You thought I didn't hear, but I did. I just didn't know how to answer it. But I've been thinking about it… and no, you're not a bad alpha. You're just a bad people person." Derek scoffed at that, looked away as he shook his head.

"Thanks, for that. Very heart warming." Derek snapped at him a little.

"No, Derek, listen." Stiles leaned forward, actively engaged now as his mind turned at its usual million thoughts a minute speed. "You've been alone for so long, focused on anger, and vengeance, and survival that you just…. Don't handle people well. And it scares them. I've known you long enough now to know that you're not ACTUALLY going to kill me, when you threaten to, most of the time at least." That last part was added in when the dark wolf gave a growl of warning. "I get it. You're dangerous. Everyone knows that. But, because you make it number one fact to the world that you're dangerous, and not to be fucked with, are you surprised that people are freakin' terrified of you? I read something, somewhere, for school probably…. Some old guy said, basically, that to be a leader, you have to be loved, as equally as you are respected. Last time I checked, you don't really give people much to love, with how closed off you are. I mean… no one knows a thing about you, except what we learn in near death situations." Taking a deep breath, Stiles leaned back and let his shoulders sag. No matter what happened now, he had it off of his chest.

Silently, Derek seemed to take it in, a mix of conflicted emotions on his face. It was a long time before he finally exhaled and dropped his head back to lean against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. It looked like he was searching for something to say. Tentatively, Stiles opened his mouth again.

"You can't treat everyone like they're strangers, knowing everything about them, but not giving anything back, and expect them to flock to you. It's too one-sided. If you want a pack, you have to open up." He said in a softer voice. He hadn't realized that this was such a tender subject for Derek. The guy seemed so hard all the time, never letting anything affect his cold exterior, that he almost believed for a while that Derek didn't care what the pack thought of him. He was starting to realize how wrong he was.

"I…." The werewolf breathed out, hesitating. Stiles eyes watched his protruding Adams apple as he swallowed. Shifting, the leather couch beneath them creaked a little. Stiles had scooted a little closer.

"I'm not going anywhere, big guy. So talk to me. Holding in all that crap is gonna drive you crazy, just like it did for Peter. You know, years in paralytic shock, festering, making him this insane psycho killing wolf? It'll affect your inner wolf, won't it? So come on. I'll sign a non-disclosure agreement if that's what you're worried about."

"Do you ever shut up?" Derek snapped, looking over at the boy, not even bothering to raise his head from the back of the couch. Realizing he'd done it again, snapping angrily without thinking, Derek sighed and rubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw, scratching at his chin a little bit before dropping it back down to his lap. His eyes redirected to the ceiling. "I've been alone for a really long time, Stiles. Since the Kate torched this place and killed my family, the only person I trusted was Laura. And she's dead now too. It's a little hard to open up and let people in when everyone I do that for, ever, dies. I've been trying. Especially with Scott. And look at how far that's gotten me! He doesn't trust me at all."

"No, I think he does trust you a little bit. He just doesn't realize it. I mean, you did save his life back when Allisons mom went all psycho-bitch and tried to kill him. We all spend so much time trying to save each other, that no one realizes we're actually friends. I'll admit… I hated you at first. A lot. Because I thought you were a murderer. And, you had this habit of threatening to kill me, you know. But… I really don't think you're that bad. You've saved me a few times too, and I appreciate that, man. I do."

More silence. But this time, it was Derek who broke it. Leaning his head up again, the Alpha raised his hand to rub the back of his neck a little. "So… What do you suggest I do? I can't just call a pack meeting, sit down, cry and pour out my heart and soul to the others. Number One: I wouldn't do that ever, and Two: They'd think I had completely lost it."

Stiles rubbed his hands together and leaned in. Finally, a project; something to direct his attention to.

"Well, for starters, you can stop threatening to kill people so much. That's typically a turn off when making friends. Also, you need to not let things stress you out so much. When you get stressed, you yell at people a lot. I don't think your little fledgling wolves understand that you don't hate them, and that you don't think they're idiots. Well, maybe you do think they're idiots, but you shouldn't. They're teenagers, who up until this last year, their biggest problems were totally normal bullshit. Not dealing with supernatural mass murderers. It's a lot to deal with. I mean… I'm coping pretty well because this is like a movie nerds paradise. I don't dig all the killing and gore I've seen, and being paralyzed and beaten up and… yeah, all that stuff…. But I dunno, I guess I'm just weird when it comes to this stuff. I've always wanted something cool to happen to me. And even though it's not happening to me, it's happening to my best friend, and around me, and it just makes me feel like I'm a part of something bigger you know? … What was I talking about?" Stiles paused, taking a deep breathing, and staring at the exasperated expression on Dereks face. "Oh! Right! Being a Good Alpha 101. Sorry. I got off track."

"You think?" Derek quipped, shaking his head and looking away. Was he really taking advice from this spastic little kid? Well… okay, he wasn't a little kid. But he was irritating as hell. Not as irritating as he used to be, though. When they'd first met, there were a few times he'd really wanted to kill him. Now, he had no urge to do that at all. In fact, the idea of Stiles dying made him bristle. He knew he was starting to consider this weird, scrawny human as part of his pack.

"Get off my case, man. I can't help it. Anyway…. There's no reason some sulking, grumpy, sexy wolf man like yourself can't relax a little, and just…. Try to be more understanding. You were a kid once, dealing with being a werewolf and a teen, weren't you? You can live out the rest of your life being angry at everything, but that's only gonna end up with you being alone. If you want to build a family, a pack, and have real friends again, you gotta find something else to anchor yourself to."

"You think I'm sexy?" Derek asked with a half of a smirk flickering across his lips, glancing over to Stiles.

"**OHMYGOD**-Really? Out of all of that awesome Dr. Phil shit I just unloaded on you, that's what you picked up?" Stiles exclaimed, rolling his eyes, and strangling at the air. "You're impossible, you sourwolf." Derek actually chuckled a little bit at that, sighing as he sobered from that rare moment of fun.

"I get it, Stiles. 'Change your ways, Ebenezer, or there will be a price to pay.' Right?" Stiles nodded, before shaking his head. It was a travesty to have all of his quality counseling reduced to a quote from a book. "But, really? Do you think I'm sexy?" Derek pressed, actually looking a little curious under his joking tone. Stiles swallowed, before licking his lips.

"What, are you gay or something? Is that why you won't bang Erika? Yes, she told me she has the hots for you but you totally shot her down."

"Does it matter if I'm gay or not? I asked YOU if you thought I was sexy."

"Wow, how are we even talking about this right now? Just a minute ago it was 'boo hoo I have no friends' and now you want to know if I, in particular' dig your chiseled, rugged, manly man, quiet but deadly get up?"

"Is that a yes?" Derek could tell Stiles was getting flustered, by the pink in his cheeks, and his elevated heartbeat. Stiles stared at Derek in disbelief for a long moment, before he huffed, and looked away.

"Jesus Christ**YES** whatever, fine, I think you're sexy. Anyone would have to be blind to think you weren't!" Stiles exclaimed with a frown. For some reason, that was really satisfying to hear for the older man.

"I'm not gay, by the way." Derek said finally. Stiles blinked a little, still covered in a blotchy red blush.

"Huh?"

"I don't like labels. I don't consider myself gay. I just don't care about it I guess. I don't date women because I don't trust them anymore. Last time I did, I got pretty royally fucked over, don't you think?" The teen couldn't help but nod quietly, in agreement. What did a guy say to that?

Sniffing a little, and wincing, Stiles reached up, tenderly touching his already bruising nose.

"But you like guys too?" He asked carefully, glancing over with a bit of an anxious expression. This wasn't the type of thing he talked with Scott about really. He'd tried a couple times, but Scott didn't see relationships other than his own. He'd have tried talking to Danny about it, if he was closer to the guy. Thinking about Derek like that was making his blush even worse.

"It'd take the guy, but I'm not opposed to it, I guess." The other man replied quietly, having a deceptively calm façade. "Why do you care?" Derek asked suddenly, looking the obviously bothered boy over. Stiles coughed a little, more of a nervous tick than anything. He shrugged too.

"Just curious, I guess… There's not many guys that like other guys in Beacon Hills. I mean, there's Danny, but he doesn't really like me, like… at all, so I can't just go and talk to him about this kinda stuff I guess." He said gently. "Scott doesn't get it. He can't comprehend anything other than Allison half of the time. Though I guess he and Isaac are getting pretty close, but we both know Scott is clueless. My dad… He told me straight up that I'm not gay, and I guess I'm not because I still feel funny below the belt when I think about Lydia, but that's never going to happen. Not after the stuff with Jackson." Sagging dejectedly against the sheet covered couch cushions, Stiles gave a whine. "Can't we have another monster to fight? It gives me an excuse to not have a love life."

Derek watched Stiles, feeling for the boy, a little. He had only been teasing him before, but now it had come out. Stiles was like him. Silently, he reached out and rested his hand on the others scalp. He only just noticed that the teen was starting to let his hair grow a little, letting it get shaggy. He'd probably shave it again soon. The thought made Derek frown. Ruffling the soft brown strands just a little, he sighed quietly. "I'd rather not have to run around trying to save your butt all the time. You're so human it hurts." He replied, leaving his hand there. Stiles kept his eyes closed, having a mini spaz attack in his head about the casual touch he was getting from the wolf.

"That's half of my appeal though. Being soft and fragile, right? The other half is all of my wit and humor." He managed to joke weakly, chuckling a bit, but holding still. He didn't want to dislodge the hand on his hair just yet.

"…Yeah, I guess it is." Derek actually answered, surprising his younger companion. Looking up, the smaller brunette hesitated.

"Do you think I'm attractive?" He asked, almost biting back the words. Scott had never answered him, and there was a very good chance that Derek wouldn't either. There was a reigning uncomfortable silence, as Derek studied Stiles face.

For a moment, the Alpha wondered if he'd actually ever looked at Stiles before. He had a thin, angular face. On him, thin worked. It was a fine line between skinny, and gaunt, and sometimes it almost seemed like the sheriff's son teetered on that edge. Derek assumed he had a high metabolism, though. He did play lacrosse, and he was always so hyper he practically vibrated… But still, he focused on really looking at the teen. He had dark, long lashes, and very fair skin, brown spots standing out against the ivory flesh in stark contrast. His hair was a very dark brown, but his eyes were a much lighter shade of umber that was actually very pretty in the low firelight. What light had been coming in through the heavy clouds outside had long since waned into the twilight hours, leaving them with nothing but the gold of the crackling flames not far away. His upturned nose was swollen and bruised, but oddly, that didn't detract from his face at all. Not with the long line of his lips just below. He could still see, and smell, the tint of red blood there, where it had dried a while ago.

The rest of Stiles was what Derek would call lanky. He was thin, gangly, and a bit awkward. Rather suddenly, he felt the urge to see what the boy looked like under his clothes. Swallowing it back, he looked back up to those expectant eyes, hanging on the edge of the question he'd asked.

"Yes. I do."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Seriously, guys. I don't own anything.

How had things turned out like this?

Outside, the wind was howling. If he didn't know better, Stiles would have compared it to a wolfs howl. But he did know better now. Not that he was thinking much at the moment.

The rickety house was shaking with every strong wind, creaking and groaning. Snow was piling up fast outside. If he'd had the presence of mind, Stiles would have worried that the house would collapse on them. But that was far from his mind at the moment.

He was rather preoccupied with the hard chest that was pressed against him. The stubbled chin grazing his. The wet lips crushed against his own. The hands that were roaming his body. Stiles Stilinski was currently straddling Derek Hale's lap, being kissed breathless.

_The heated silence after that bold confirmation of attraction had grown to be stifling. Stiles was flushed, his cheeks daubed red in splotches, as he felt the blush rise up his neck as well. "W-well then… That's…. awesome…" He'd whispered hoarsely, clearing his throat reactively. _

"Mmn… watch it…" Stiles gasped against Dereks lips, wincing into the intense kiss when his still aching nose was pressed. Growling deep in his throat, Derek rather abruptly forsook the boy's mouth, in favor of ravaging his sharp jawline with his lips and his teeth. The brunette shuddered. Stiles felt almost helpless as he fisted his shaking hands into Derek's stiff leather jacket. Everything in him was tensed, and hot, and thrumming. Even after just a few minutes of kissing and touching.

_"So… uh…. What do we do now, then?" Stiles asked anxiously as he rifled around, grabbing an old newspaper off the floor, fumbling as he tried to open in. The brittle pages crackled uncomfortably. "Oh look, Nixon resigned from the presidency…" Derek rolled his eyes at the boy's nervous behavior. _

_"You're really going to read a newspaper? Really?" He asked with a bit of an amused expression._

_"Reading is important, Derek. Especially for an overactive mind. It's something my doctor suggested; to help my adh-" He didn't get much further into what would have surely been a long winded rant about nothing important. Derek grabbed the newspaper, claws extended long enough to shred it as he tossed it aside. "HEY! I was READING that!" Stiles protested, leaning forward, hand extended in the direction of the shards of paper. _

_"Not anymore."_

"Oh hell…" The teen whined out as Derek's strong hands grabbed his hips, roughly pulling their bodies together in a spine-tingling grind. It certainly didn't help that the alphas tongue had simultaneously just glided up the length of his throat, from his collarbone. This was a side of Derek he'd never anticipated on seeing. Ever. Or rather… feeling. He could hardly open his eyes, with all the sensations coursing through him at the moment. Groaning a little when he felt the older man's rough skinned hands slipped under his sweater to feel up along his slender sides, Stiles experimentally bucked his hips gently against Dereks. The reaction was more than he'd anticipated though.

_"W-Woah! What are you doing?!" Stiles cried out, flailing a bit as Derek grabbed the front of his sweater, pulling him across the couch to him. The clumsy teen nearly fell onto the floor, but just as he was losing his balance, he found himself on Dereks lap, facing his red-eyed alpha._

_"I'm following my instincts." He murmured, eyes flickering over Stiles face one more time, before he inched forward, tilting his head just enough to graze his lips over the boys mouth._

For a moment, the whole world shifted, and with a firm thud, Derek had Stiles on a haphazardly strewn out blanket, laid out on the floor in front of the fire. "Shit! Gentle with the merchandise, Derek!" Stiles cursed, rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the rumpled blanket. In response, the wolf's claws were out, and suddenly sliced through the teen's shirt, from collar to hem. "HEY! I LIKED THIS SHIRT!"

"Tough. I wanted it off." Derek groused, as he wrestled the rest of the fabric off of the other. He wasn't satisfied until he could see every inch of the others pale torso. While Derek had never been a fan of people who were too thin, for some reason it really worked on Stiles. His skin looked soft, even though he could see the outline of the boy's ribs. His whole torso was studded with the occasional spot, or freckle, and a rising rumble in his chest showed that Derek enjoyed what his saw.

Frustrated, and a little angry, Stiles sat up from where he'd been laid, legs spread, chest bare. "If I'm gonna be naked and cold, then you are too." The boy huffed, jerking off Dereks leather jacket, revealing his grey, v necked sweater beneath. "Ugh… You disgust me, man. I can see your biceps through your sweater! How is that even fair? Seriously! I play lacrosse and I can't even get one ab muscle and you're like….. Your muscles have muscles!" Stiles whined out, complaining until Derek leaned in to kiss him again, effectively shutting him up. "Mmmm… Okay… Okay… I get the p-" Another kiss. Melting into it, Stiles shuddered and fisted his hands into Derek's sweater, starting to pull it up, and off.

The older male pulled back long enough to discard the shirt, before pushing Stiles back down, his own much larger body fitting over him easily. It was minutes again, before the kiss was broken, letting Stiles gulp down some air. Leaning up a little, Derek could see that the teen's lips were swollen, and cherry red from their intensity. He wanted them bruised, so that when he looked at Stiles tomorrow, he'd see the evidence on his face. As he stared, Stiles pink tongue darted out and grazed over his lips, tasting them. Derek growled, just about to dive back in, when he was stopped by a hand on his chest. It was firm enough to make him stop, even though he could have easily ignored it.

"W-What are we doing here? Are we like… doing…_it_?" Stiles asked, looking nervous. Part of Derek, his Wolf part, was irritated and impatient at that. But he swallowed it back, frowning down at his ma-… Stiles.

"What? Is there a problem with that? I can feel that you want me." Stiles couldn't deny that. Not with his erection pressing up against Dereks hip, hard.

"Well y-yeah I want you but… It's like…. It's not that simple… I mean, do you have… stuff?" The teens face was redder, if possible. Derek looked confused.

"Stuff?" Stiles groaned at the clueless look on Dereks face.

"L-lube… you know… the stuff that helps make it not hurt? I'm… not exactly experienced in this and stuff…" He was trying to not say the words…

"Are you a virgin?" And there it was. _Thank you, Derek, let me just go crawl in a whole and die…_

"No I have buttsex all the time. Every moment I'm not with you, I'm getting plowed. What do you think?" Derek growled viciously at Stiles. His eyes going red again. "Okay, okay, maybe not the best time for sarcasm…. It's my only reflex man, chill out… Yes. I'm a virgin."

Giving out a rough sigh, Derek was suddenly on his feet, stalking out of the room, leaving Stiles there, alone and confused. Just as Stiles was starting to be sure he'd somehow completely disgusted and turned off Derek to the point where the guy didn't want to do this, or even be around him, he heard those heavy footsteps again. This time, they were more of a fleshy padding, though. The muscular wolf's boots were discarded on the floor, one fallen on its side. Derek was barefoot. So he probably hadn't gone far.

Looking open when the door opened, Stiles couldn't help the self-conscious, slightly pathetic look on his face. He'd really thought for a moment that Derek had changed his mind. Frozen by that look where he stood in the doorway, Dereks jaw tightened, the muscles in his cheeks flexing for a moment. "Shut up." He groused, as if it was the only thing he could think to say. As he closed the door, Stiles looked to his hand, noticing he was holding something.

A bottle of…. Oh…

"OH. You got lube." The teen blurted out. For the first time ever, he saw a bit of pink raise on the alpha's cheeks. Almost immediately, Stiles lips pulled into a grin. And it pissed Derek off. Stalking back over to the boy, who still sat on the blanket, he set the bottle aside for now. Before Stiles could make the sarcastic remark that was on the edge of his tongue, he suddenly found himself face down on the blanket, breathing in his detergent

"Woah… Oh hell..." He gasped out, fingers rolling into his fists as he clenched the fabric under him. More cold air grazed his skin as he felt Derek start to pull off his jeans. He finally seemed to snap out of it, and pulled away from Derek entirely. "Stop! Derek! Just, stop for a moment, okay?" Spinning to look at the man, on his knees, his cheeks red, and goose bumps raised on his pale skin... Stiles swallowed hard, and looked at Derek. Really looked at him.

"Alright. I'm stopped. I get the point. I won't touch you anymore." He growled out after a long silence, tossing his own sweater at Stiles to put on, before slumping to sit on the floor. One leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent to support his elbow, Derek rubbed a hand over his face, staring into the flames. And for that moment, Stiles saw something he never, ever associated with Derek Hale.

Vulnerability and loneliness.

Rejection.

"That's… Derek come on. That's not what I said." Stiles said finally. Setting the sweater aside, he crawled over to the man, and boldly forced him to move his bent leg, so that his lithe form could straddle his lap. Back-lit by the flame, Stiles skin had a pleasant gold cast, and his eyes almost glowed as he looked over the rough face in front of him.

The one constant emotion Stiles always felt about Derek, was uncertainty. He'd never known how to feel about him. Fear, anger, jealously, hatred…. Attraction… He'd never really admitted that last one to himself. But now, looking the others rugged face over from just a few inches away, and letting him take it all in, he couldn't deny it.

Derek Hale was a beautiful, sad vision of a man. Scruff on his tense jaw that always seemed to be holding back words waiting to burst out, eyebrows heavy with furrow and starting to wrinkle his forehead in stress lines… Hard eyes that were pale, and at the same time so bright… Why had he never noticed how beautiful he was? The curve of his cheek bone lining the sexy hollow of his cheeks… the strong, straight bridge of his nose and the chiseled angle of his jaw… Leading down to a long neck, prominent Adams Apple bobbing with a swallow…. He was handsome. He was beautiful. And Stiles was rocked to his core how insignificant he was compared to this Alpha wolf. A textbook example of a man.

Here he was, this little hyperactive shit with no muscle, or fat, but an over-abundance of sharp bones and freckles. Scrawny, and not even blessed with height. He was nothing, compared to Derek, and yet just moments before, this man had _wanted_ him. Has been about to take him, _claim him_. Biting back on his molars, and swallowing down a heavy breath, Stilinski raised his hands to feel along that prominent jawline. Short hairs stubbled and prickled at his fingertips.

"Why me?" He asked, blurting it out in a heavy whisper. His own brows sank together as he rested his hands on Derek's chest, looking up at him. "I want this. Okay? I want it. I'm not crazy. You're… sickeningly hot. But that's what confuses me. Why would someone like you want some… stupid punk like me? No one likes me except Scott, and right now he's too busy with Isaac to be bothered with Stiles." Hearing that he was wanted, on some level, seemed to seep an ounce of the tension out of Derek's shoulders. His hands came up to rest on the boys hips. He realized how hasty he'd been, to let his need to finally claim Stiles for his own take over. Stiles was a virgin. He wasn't even openly gay. Of course he'd have reservations about this.

"Look… Stiles… " He started, sighing heavily, and looking away. "You're not 'some stupid punk', okay? You've proven yourself to be… brave, and strong. You're a human. And you run with werewolves. You've fought a Kanima, and Hunters. How much time do you spend doing research, and all the brainwork for that puppy dog of a best friend you have? You're…. much more than that. You're the only human in a Pack. That's not something that happens. Ever. Even when my family was alive, the humans in my family weren't involved in Wolf dealings. At all. And they liked it that way. You know what kind of monster I am, you know some of the horrible things I've done, and wanted to do, and yet… You're here, and you want me. Why wouldn't I want you? Beyond that… It's deeper than me. It's… my Wolf. He wants you. He's claimed you. It's why I'm always so angry with you all the time. Why I always threaten you when you touch me. It's because I'm always a half second away from taking what He wants."

"You know this is the most I think I've ever heard you speak in one sit-what?" It had taken a long moment for the meaning of the words to sink in. "Wait…. What?" He asked again. Blinking a few times, he stared at Derek's quiet face. Sighing, his shoulders sagged, and he lowered his head for a moment, eyes closed. "That's… really fucking intense man… That's like… mates and shit… I didn't even… realize… Ya know?"

"….I know."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This is the last chapter, unless I find inspiration to continue this into a series. All of these chapters have been unbeta'd. To those of you who have red, reviewed, favorited or enjoyed this story, thank you thank you thank you thank you so much. I'm sorry the updates took so long. As a RPer, writing solo fics has steadily become harder and harder to do. Especially smut. Which, I should warn, this chapter is FULL of.

**WARNING: Intense sex scene. This entire chapter is raw, unadulterated porn. There is some warnings that need to be listed.**

**Slight Minor. (Stiles is 16, people, maybe 17 at this point now.)**

**Dirty talk. There is some intense language in this chapter. Both Stiles and Derek let loose, and say some naughty things.**

**Oral/Rimming. Self explanatory.**

**Fingering/Handjob. Also self explanatory.**

**Mild scenting fetish. Derek is a werewolf. He's got a sensitive nose. Can you blame the guy?**

**AND FINALLY...**

**Knotting. Yep. There it is. **

Stiles gulped down a shaky breath, and closed his eyes, lowering his head to press it against the older man's clavicle. Inhaling, Stiles wished he had the others sense of smell. To be able to memorize and dissect what his flesh smelled like. As it was, he able to vaguely detect some kind of men's shower soap. Another thing he could feel… Was warmth. So often, it was easy to look at Derek, and believe every bit of him was as cold and hard as he acted. But here, pressed into him, he was surprised that steam wasn't rising from his skin. He was like a furnace, sweltering, and delicious compared to the storm that was raging on outside. The wolf was hard, yes. Hard with steel muscle, but the skin on top of it was smooth and had just the thinnest layer of softness over it.

To say that Stiles wasn't feeling shy would be a blatant lie. He almost felt like he'd rather run out through the storm to get to his safe, empty bed, where he didn't have to face this. But the louder part of him, was the desire to stay, and warm himself on the hot ember that was Derek Hale.

Swallowing hard to precede his movement, Stiles began tentatively, unbeknownst to Derek. His face finally tilted, and lifted up. First, his pointed nose grazed flesh, and was followed after, nano-seconds behind, by his lips, moistened from his tongue. He pressed a gentle kiss to the prominent tendon that strained against flesh on the other mans statuesque throat. Derek inhaled slowly, chest rising against Stiles. He took that as acceptance, after the other did nothing to push him away, so Stiles pressed another kiss down, an inch higher than before. Working his way up. Instinctively, the teens tongue brushed out along Derek's jawline, feeling the coarse hairs against it, and he shivered with sudden want. A throb that made him wince.

He wanted to know what other parts of Derek were furry.

Sitting up, looking at the lusty gleam in the wolfs eyes, Stiles cleared his throat, and nodded, a jerky motion. It was his permission. And Derek didn't wait for any more than that. His hands flexed, and were instantaneously on the boy's small ass, gripping hard. Pulling Stiles down, his own his rocked upwards, and there was that friction again. The strangled groan that Stiles had tried to muffle bristled down Derek's spine.

The teen's slender hands were braced on the swell of Derek's pectoral muscles, gripping as he rocked his hips again, for another delicious grind. "G-God you're huge, aren't you?" Stiles whined out. He could feel the solid rod of steel through their jeans, and it had him a little scared.

Smirking at the comment, Derek pushed Stiles back onto the blanket, so that he could crawl over him. "Relax. I'll make sure you're…. fully prepared before we get that far." Was his soft growl of reassurance. And the words made Stiles gut clench. Or was that the feeling of Derek's lips grazing over his chest? He didn't have too much time to ponder that, though, as his mind went blank. Gasping, he felt the smoothness of a wet heat circling his left nipple. Hot breath pressing into his skin, before the air chilled the saliva and made his dusty pink bud draw up tight, and hard. The same thing was repeated to its twin. Even though his eyes were focused on the ceiling, Stiles could feel the trail of that tongue. Derek was sampling him, tasting here and there. Tracing the lines of his ribs that became prominent with every inhale, and delivering the occasional soft nip. It was a bit of a rush, knowing those very teeth on his skin could turn him from human, to wolf, in one too-hard bite. But that was where trust and risk came in, wasn't it? Would he really mind if he became a wolf this way? That was another thing he'd have to think about later.

"Oh my God…" Stiles blurted out again, shuddering through a groan when he felt Dereks tongue dip into his navel. It was like there was a nerve connected from his belly button, straight to his scrotum, and Derek had just yanked on it with a sweep of his tongue. Panting gently, gripping at the sculptured shoulders his hands had found to perch on, the teen tipped his hips up to Derek in a wordless begging.

This was answered, to his sudden dismay.

Derek had slid a hand up over Stiles desperate erection, massaging him through his jeans, and starting to pluck at the button of his fly. All the while the other mans lips and teeth focused on leaving a trail of hickeys and love bites along his hips. The sound of his zipper coming down was like a grounding wire to his brain, and his hands scrambled clumsily down, to keep Derek from pulling his jeans down. "H-hey… wait a sec… I… Look… So… we can't all be… you know, gifted with amazing monster wolf-cocks and stuff… So don't expect much, okay?" Stiles face was bright red from embarrassment, as he had curled up a little, to look down at the man positioned between his legs. Derek rolled his eyes.

"I don't care how big your dick is, Stiles. It doesn't really matter, does it? You won't really be using it much tonight." Stiles went even darker rouge at that comment.

"Oh, what, you mean I'm not topping?" He joked, swallowing hard as he lay back, and took a deep, nervous breath, releasing the others hands.

Strong fingers tucked into the waistband of the teen's jeans and his boxers. Derek wasn't going to give him any more hang-ups to catch on. In one smooth motion, the older male slid the garments off, completely, tossing them behind him onto the couch. Stiles was a little more than flustered with surprise as his legs dropped back down to the ground, forcibly spread by the position of Dereks body in relation to his. Stammering out incoherent words, his hands jerked back in an attempt to cover himself. The wolf hovering over him wasn't going to have any of that, though. Firmly, his hands shackled Stiles wrists, and pinned them to the ground on either side of his hips.

"Stop moving." Derek growled, and watched Stiles obey him reluctantly. In his peripheral, he could see his younger partners face turned, blotched with that familiar red blush. Jaw tensed, swallowing hard, Stiles was obviously embarrassed to be so openly exposed. But Derek took his time, scanning his entire body, licking his lips.

"Even your dick has freckles." He ground out between clenched teeth. Oh, he enjoyed that very much.

Honestly, he didn't understand why Stiles was so frantic about his nudity. The boy's length was about 6 inches. A little slender, but it was stiff, and red, and proud of itself, by the way it stood, hard. It was nestled in a thatch of dark brown curls. Derek had been half expecting that he'd have been shaved, but he liked this better. Already, his nostrils flared as he took in Stiles sexy musk. He smelled like a unique mix of clean soap, and spice. A spice that was uniquely Stiles.

"O-okay, come on, Derek… It's not gonna do any tricks or anything, so you can stop staring." The pitiful whine made the wolf grin.

"Oh it'll do a trick for me. I'll train it myself." He murmured. Stiles groaned at those words, his cock visibly throbbing at the promise. That was the final straw for Derek. He had to taste him. Releasing the slim wrists he'd been restraining, Derek made sure they stayed put, before moving his calloused hands to Stiles legs. At first, he gently rubbed his hands along the crinkly hair of his calves, before moving up more. The older man seemed to enjoy the anticipation almost as much as the touch. He could smell the boys want, and need, spiking off of him in waves, like the sweetest drug. Slipping his fingertips up slender thighs, Derek pushed Stiles open more, and dipped his head down. First, he nuzzled his nose into the others curls, inhaling deeply and nestling all around the base of his cock. "Mmmm… God you smell good…" Derek's voice broke as he breathed the words out.

"Nnng…. Derek… You're killin' me here…." Stiles whined. His hands had come up to his face, rubbing over his heated visage. It was all he could do. His body was obeying Dereks orders against his own will. "This is embarrassing!" He added in complaint. The wolf chose to ignore it as he pressed his lips into the apex of where Stiles leg connected to his groin. A nip in the same spot earned him a shudder from Stiles.

Minutes passed, and Derek had yet to do anything more than litter more small bruises along the inside of the teens thighs with his mouth. The glow from the fire light up the saliva-wet patches on his flesh with a glisten, as well as the first bead of precum crowning the tip of Stiles length. A rumble like thunder rolled from Derek, emanating from deep in his chest, as he leaned up, and swiped the flat of his tongue from the base of Stiles cock to the head. Sucking at the slit, and tasting the potent, salty fluid. For a moment, every single inch of Dereks flesh seemed to shift, and bristle, like he was barely containing himself from shifting. His Wolf wanted Stiles. Desperately.

"Oh God Oh God…" Stiles panted out, his hands clutching at his short, hair, breathing hard as he tried to hold back from embarrassing himself even more.

Then Derek took him back into his mouth, and it was over. Unhinged, Stiles cried out, cumming hard enough for his toes to curl, and his spine to arch off the floor. Derek was a little surprised by that, but after the first pulsing flood of release, he closed his eyes, and swallowed, letting Stiles drain out to the end of his orgasm, before leaning up and licking his lips with a satisfied huff.

Stiles was limp on the floor, now, panting hard as he tried to get his racing heart beat to slow down. "Holy fuck… Derek… S-sorry… Woah… That was intense…" He whimpered out. He couldn't help but feel bad for blowing it so soon. It wasn't really his fault, right? He'd never been touched like that before….

Derek seemed to already be over it though. "Roll over." He barked out. Groaning at the effort of his warm, relaxed muscles, Stiles managed to flop over onto his stomach. And once he was there, and settled, Derek crawled over to his new position, and straddled his legs. Stiles realized he felt less vulnerable in this position, but he couldn't deny that what Derek had just done to him was incredibly hot. Groaning softly, it took Stiles a moment to catch up to what was happening now, and why it felt so good. Derek's hands were firmly rubbing the muscles in his lower back, while kissing along his spine.

"Mmmm…. That's nice…" He whispered, folding his arms under his head, inhaling deeply. Derek was taking a few moments to reel himself in, and get back under control.

"You taste so good, Stiles." The wolf whispered into his ear. So much for relaxing. Stiles swallowed hard again, and took in a deep breath.

"Th-thanks?" He replied, uncertain of how anyone could respond to something like that. It earned him a chuckle. Derek's body was curled over him. Its warmth had him so comfortable, that he could have fallen asleep there, if it weren't for the fingertips starting to massage the fleshy globes of his ass.

"Mmnnn… D-Derek… I…" He'd started, but then the man's lips were on his, swallowing his words and his fears.

"Relax. I'll take care of you." Derek assured, and just like that, he was off of Stiles, sliding back down. Kneeling over the teens lower legs, Derek worked his firm fingers up the backs of his thighs, until his palms rested over the boy's ass. Gripping, squeezing firmly, Derek watched as his flesh shifted, and spread, exposing the pale, tight hole that was his goal. Staring at him, the wolf released a deep growl, shifting his hands to spread him wider. Stiles suddenly realized that this was MUCH more exposing and vulnerable than when it was just his dick. He could feel Derek's thumbs pressing against either side of his twitching asshole. Time dragged on, and the man didn't do anything more.

"Take a p-picture or something, man, it'll last longer." He breathed out exasperatedly. Derek smirked.

"Well with your permission…" He started, removing a hand, digging for his phone.

"N-NO! DON'T YOU DARE!" Stiles yelped, reaching back to swat at Dereks hand. Derek laughed, and grabbed his hand, pinning it to the small of his back. Stiles would have complained about that, if he hadn't just heard the most amazing sound. Derek… laughing?

He wanted to ask who this guy was, and what he did with Derek, because this was not a person he'd ever met before. Was this a glimpse under that steely shell?

Stiles was starting to feel like a whiteboard. Again, all of his thoughts were wiped away completely. Derek had yet to release his wrist, wrenched back and pinned to his back, but his other one was still fee, and had moved to take over spreading open Stiles' most private place.

"Ohfuckme…" The teen gasped, when he suddenly felt Dereks stubbled jaw pressed against the pale, freckled flesh of his asscheeks. It was followed soon after by the press of a hot, moist appendage, right against his tightly closed entrance. It wouldn't be like that very long.

The painful throb of his cock pressed between him and blanketed floor reminded Stiles that it was going to stay like that. Being a connoisseur of masturbating, Stiles knew exactly what it took to make him come, when it came to touching his dick. But he'd only once dared venture farther south. He'd been drunk and curious that night. He'd passed out before he'd even gotten a fingertip inside of himself. So this was completely new territory for him, and he didn't know anything about how he would react to being split open by a giant cock. He had fantasized that it would feel amazing, but in all honesty, he knew it took a lot to get over the pain of being stretched like that.

"Stop thinking, Stiles." Derek growled, nipping at the soft globe of flesh to his left. "You're about as relaxed as concrete." Exhaling, Stiles realized he had been holding his breath. With a shudder, he took a few deep breaths, and forced himself to relax more. Only once Derek felt the muscles in the teens ass unclench, did he press his tongue back against his hole gently. It sent shocks of pleasure like electricity up through Stiles spine, and he let out a groan. His un-restrained hand clenched at the blanket.

"D-Derek…" He ground out between his teeth, lifting his hips a little. He wasn't sure why, though. It was either to press his body closer to Derek's mouth, or to relieve the pressure off of his flushed length.

Derek let Stiles hand go, grabbing his hips firmly in both hands, and pressing them down to the floor again. His growl animalistic, the alpha shifted up, his nose buried behind the others ear. He was inhaling deeply, over and over. It tickled a little, making Stiles laugh, and wriggle, until one of the man's hands shifted

It left his body completely, and out of his line of sight. But he could hear the snap of the bottle lid. His mind supplied the imagery of slick lube coating Derek's fingers. But Stiles was wrong. He felt the drizzle of liquid on the flesh of his ass. Derek was already making a mess. There was a gratuitous amount of lubricant all over him, and an empty bottle clattering onto the floor, rolling away from being tossed aside.

"Oh my God…." Stiles whispered in a mild panic. One broad hand was firmly cradling his skull, the other massaging through the lubricant all over his skin. The strong fingers were manipulating his flesh and tissue, slicking up his digits thoroughly.

"Y-you know, we could… h-hold off and m-maybe play I s-spyyyYYYOHMYFFFFF-" Sinking his teeth into his own arm, Stiles whimpered. Instead of probing, and prodding, testing the waters, Derek had sunk one lubricated finger in deep, to the last knuckled. It was by some saving grace that the man didn't move it or try for more right away. He held his hand still, and let Stiles adjust.

"Breathe." Derek reminded. Instead of a growl, this time, his voice was almost a purr. He trailed his lips down the side and back of the teen's neck, waiting for him to loosen. It took a few long minutes, but finally Stiles shoulders started to relax, and his breathing was closer to normal. Derek huffed in the effort of his restraint, before starting to tentatively stroke his digit in and out. It took a few experimental twists and hisses of displeasure from Stiles before Derek finally heard and felt what he was looking for.

Choking as white hot pleasure exploded in front of his eyes, Stiles jolted and gasped once he could get his heart out of his throat.

"What the HELL was that?!" He demanded, letting out a hard breath. Grinning, Derek did it again. He dug his fingertip firmly against that tight bundle of nerves, massaging right into the teens previously undiscovered prostate. And within seconds, he had Stiles red-faced and trembling.

"Say hello to your prostate, Stiles. You and he are going to become very close friends." If he hadn't already had an orgasm earlier, inside of Derek's mouth, Stiles would have lost himself again.

It took a handful of minutes, before Derek was able to slip in another finger. Another handful for a third. But by the time he was 3 fingers deep into Stiles ass, Derek was breathing hard, and sitting upright over Stiles body. His thumb was tracing the puffy, red rim of Stiles hole. The Alpha found himself intoxicated by the heady combination of Stiles keening moans, and the obscene squelch of his lubricated fingers stretching and plundering the boys insides.

Not to mention the overwhelming aroma of sex that hung in the air. Dereks garnet red eyes were fever-bright, pupils dilated.

"GODDAMMIT DEREK FUCK ME ALREADY!" Stiles sobbed out. His hands were trembling. All of him was trembling.

"Fuck…. "Derek cursed in a hard growl. The demand wasn't what did it. It was the desperation, and the need in Stiles voice, and in his scent. Slipping his fingers out of the younger male's body, Derek was fumbling with his jeans, trying to get them open with his slippery fingers. It took too long, for Stiles.

The skinny teen wriggled around until he managed to flip over onto his back, under Derek, reaching up to pop open the fly of his jeans. "OhmyGod you're huge…" Stiles hissed. His hand had ducked into the Alpha's underwear, slipping over what could have easily passed for a scalding hot steel rod. Hissing, Derek pumped his hips forward, thrusting into the boy's hand. Stiles had to let go. His hands anchored onto Dereks jeans, and started tugging on them. The older man lurched forward, bracing his hands on the floor at either side of Stiles head, so that he could rest his weight onto them and stretch his legs back. With some wriggling, and Stiles help, Derek was able to get the rest of his clothes off, and kicked aside. Finally. And it seemed like it was just in time. Stiles could see the strain Derek was under trying to hold himself back. His eyes were red, and his tendons were taut and prominent under his skin. Seeing that look on Derek Hale… On old Sourwolf… Grumpy Cat Angry Puss Derek Hale… And knowing that Stiles was the reason from inciting this need… It broke what inhibition the wiry teen had left in him.

"Fuck…. Derek… Shove that dripping, hot cock in my ass and pound me into the floor you fucker!" Stiles demanded, spreading his legs. The moment Stiles opened his mouth, and started pouring out dirty talk, it didn't stop. Like every other moment of the day, he was talking. Saying things, wild things.

Even when Derek clamped a hand over Stiles mouth, muffled sounds showed that he hadn't even stopped then. "Shut up Stiles." Derek snarled, bracing his cock with his free hand. The glistening tip, of which, he was pressing against Stiles thoroughly stretched, pink hole. His cock was a wider than the 3 fingers he'd used to loosen up the teen, so when Stiles felt the broad cockhead pop past the ring of muscle, Stiles cried out against the hand on his mouth, sinking teeth into flesh.

The boy's hands scrambled to brace against Dereks ribcage, squirming under him on the floor. He wasn't quite sure if he was pulling him in closer, or trying to push him away, but whatever it was, he forgot, at the feel of hot skin under his palms. Dereks hand had moved off of his mouth so his voice was free to sound. And it did. Stiles was practically wailing as inch after inch of Dereks length sank into him. He'd never imagined he could feel so _full_. Another inch, another whimper. Lurching up, Stiles buried his face against Derek's neck, biting at his flesh as if it would help him control himself. He wasn't expecting the chain reaction it earned him though. The bite seemed to affect Derek, earning him a wild buck from those hips.

Sobbing, Stiles hitched his legs up around Dereks back. There was no stopping now. Not now that he could feel the aching fullness, the throb of pulse inside of him. He was pegged, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to go back.

"So…. Ugh…. Fuck…. You're so… tight…" Derek grunted as he began to move in a steady rhythm. It was many intense, long minutes, before Stiles felt something familiar. The pain had relaxed. It would be back, later, he knew that much. But for now, something else was building back up inside of him. It was a heavy, lurching pleasure. Tightening in his gut, and the base of his spine. Just like when it had been Derek's fingers, he could feel a persistent thrust over his new 'close friend'. The sheer size of Dereks cock had made it inevitable. The blunt head of the length was grinding right over his prostate, with each pass. And every time, Stiles felt his cock twitch, and leak out another glob of precum. It was like he was being milked from the inside.

"D-Derek… OhGod…OhGoood!" Breathing hard, the teen couldn't formulate words beyond those, and the sharp, broken cries of begging need. Pleas for Derek to bring him to completion.

They went unanswered.

In a mess of sweat, and sliding flesh, Stiles was losing himself into heat, and the pressure inside his gut. It was almost painful, but in the most delicious way, that he almost didn't want to end. The charred house around him that creaked and rattled in the wind meant nothing to him. The dimming glow from the fire was inconsequential. He couldn't feel the temperature lowering a little as the fire began to temper down to a smolder rather than a blaze. Because the fire was between them now. Their bodies, and friction, and passion created a heat that kept sweat beading on flesh, and ghosting down paths between goose bumps.

It was fear that rose in Stiles when one backward draw of Dereks hips completely unsheathed his length from his body. Fear that it was over too soon. Fear that he would be left empty the rest of the night. Empty and wanting. His fears were not realized, though, as his body was flipped with an air-wrenching impact onto his stomach. Hands once more gripped his ass, with less finesse to spread them apart. And this time, as his Alpha resumed his thrusts, they were erratic, and sporadic. Timing meant nothing now. It was a hasty rush for completion. But something felt different in this position. Stiles mouth was pouring out demands, still. Half of them didn't even reach his own ears, but he felt Derek's response to them. Maybe an hour had passed. He wasn't sure. But Stiles was sure that Dereks dick hadn't felt this big in the other position. And… was it….. Getting bigger?

"H-holy…. Fuck… Derek… Oh shit…. Fuck… fucking… Give it to me… Derek, goddammit, yes…. Fu… ah…Ah! Hnnn…. Guh…God…. Do it… Fucking… Plug your fat… Cock in my a-aaaAAAaaasssss… Fuccckk…. P-plug me…. C-come oonn…. Oh fuck… Are you... A-are you gonna…?" His breathing was hard, coming out in bursts, thanks in part to the intense, bruising thrusts of Dereks hips. He knew something was coming. Derek wasn't getting in as deep, and there was something… pressing against his wet hole. He knew what it was. He'd done the research. Scott had talked about how bothersome it was… But… it was happening now, here, with Derek.

"Take my knot, Stiles!" Derek commanded in a gruff command. He was battering the swollen bulge at the base of his dick like a ram, against the weakened and already over-stretched gateway into Stiles ass. Stiles was locked into position by Dereks arms, twined around him like bondage ropes. Dereks face was pressed against the teen's neck, breath coming in quick, hot pants. One of his arms was looped around Stiles chest, hooked under his arm and angled up to clutch at his shoulder. Claws extended and digging into skin thoughtlessly. His other hand gripped the human boy's slender hip, scoring his flesh there as well. Stiles, subconsciously knew he was in for a hard recovery. But seriously, how long had it been since Derek had been with anyone? Probably too long. He was pent up, wound up, in need of this release. He couldn't control it anymore. And Stiles got off on that, hard.

"OhholyfuckingcheeseandtitsDE REK!" Stiles cried out, seeing stars as the thrusts became more forceful. More painful. It was conflicting. The pain, and the pleasure, the raw ache of being fucked into like he was a steak being hit with a tenderizing mallet over and over… For some reason, Stiles dick was harder than it had ever been in his short life, and currently being pummeled into a puddle of his own pre-cum over and over again. Derek was trying to force in his inhumanly shaped appendage. The bulb at the base of the older man's cock was probably the size of a tennis ball. And it wanted into a place that Stiles had never once in his life considered shoving a tennis ball. But now… "Do it! Fucking… gahh…. Ah…. H-haaaah! F-fill me! Knot m-me Derek! Sh-shooo-ove that… fat knot… in me… push it in and…. FUCK!... Breed me!" He begged, realizing that was what it was. All of the wolf's instincts right now were months, maybe years of pent up heat, and instinct. The need to fuck, and breed, and _cum_. It was Stiles acceptance of that, which pushed Derek off of the edge he'd teetered on, completely.

With a reckless howl, Derek's hips snapped forward, and finally, the speed, pressure, lubrication, and Stiles body all fell into perfect alignment. With an imagined _POP_, and a guttural snarl, Dereks knot was tied snuggly behind Stiles excruciatingly tender muscle. It wasn't quite over yet. The thrusts were shallow now, more like insistent grinding, but Stiles was as full as possible and getting fuller by the moment. A torrent of cum had been unleashed inside of him, and he was slowly starting to feel the pressure of the incredible amount of liquid heat flooding him. Dereks knot was pulsing, and grinding strategically right against the teens prostate. 3, 4… 5 sharp grinding thrusts later, and Stiles was screaming out his pleasure, drool painting glistening lines down his chin as his body seized up against his will.

Legs trembling, back stuttering and arching, chest heaving, and hands scrabbling at the floor, the full bodied orgasm Stiles underwent was more than a simple emptying of his balls. It was a deep release. Deeper than anything he'd known his body could experience. It scratched an itch he didn't know he had. A rare anal orgasm, hands free, and all encompassing. It was minutes that he convulsed, pinned under Derek and trapped on his cock, against his chest. He didn't even have the mental capacity to wonder what the wild catch and release of his inner muscles must be doing to the wolf inside of him, forced to ride it out like a drunken man tied to a mechanical bull. The milking grip of silken muscle around his knot only succeeded in forcing out more and more of his potent seed, until Stiles belly was heavy with it.

A full few minutes later, Derek finally felt Stiles come down from the prostate orgasm he'd suffered. He could hear the boy's heart, beating as fast as he'd ever heard a human heart pound. His lungs were heaving, but his body was slowly cooling down, falling into bliss, and an amazing afterglow. Derek was himself again. The moment his own release had washed over him, like a cleansing wave, he'd felt his wolf recede, and calm. His eyes were no longer red, his claws long since retracted.

One thing still remained, though, and it was the reason that Derek was still on top of Stiles, rather than flopped out onto the floor next to him. His knot…

"….Hey, there…" He heard the raw croak of a voice from beneath him. Stiles was finally conscious and coherent again. He'd gotten his heart, and his breathing under control enough to talk.

"…Hey." Derek replied quietly, watching the blissed out expression on the teens face.

"….." Stiles licked his lips, and sighed. "….You are… fucking amazing at sex."

That earned a half chuckle from Derek, who relaxed a bit. He didn't realize he'd been braced for…. Something…. Rejection maybe? To be pushed away? Regardless, the man sighed, and nuzzled once more at Stiles neck, pressing a kiss to the spot he'd been in an internal war with himself to keep from biting, before he leaned up onto his elbows.

Now that he wasn't in a frenzy to mate Stiles, Derek could feel the temperature in the room. Where they were, on the floor, he was lucky enough to be able to reach the pile of wood Stiles had brought, and loaded some into the nearby hearth, stoking up the fire again, before looping an arm around his companion, to move them onto their sides.

"Next time I want to be the big spoon." Came a sleepy grumble of half-hearted protest from Stiles. Derek rolled his eyes, grabbing the other two blankets that lay nearby, pulling them over. The whole time, he'd been careful to keep his hips flush against Stiles, not wanting to tug, and cause pain. It would be a long wait before he could pull out.

"In your dreams, Stiles." Derek retorted fairly quickly, as he arranged the blankets over them. By the time he was satisfied, and settled, Stiles was already snoring.


	4. Chapter 4

A whole week had passed since Stiles had heard from, or seen Derek. And it was driving him crazy. On the one hand, he was angry. No, filled with a righteous fury. Yeah, that was more like it. Fury.

Or depression…

Waking up the morning after his spicy encounter with Derek, Stiles had found himself alone, bundled under a pile of all the blankets he'd brought on the floor. The fire in the hearth was roaring as if it had only just been built up within the hour.

Trying to move just a little, Stiles quickly stilled with a hiss.

Oh, that hurt.

All at once he was sharply aware of the bone deep ache in his ass, radiating up his spine. It felt like his hips were fused in place with how tight his muscles had become and all at once he'd lost his desire to move. Minutes ticked by though, and his patience was wearing thin. He couldn't sleep. He wanted to move. So Stiles slowly extricated his naked body from the blankets, sighing as he looked around for his clothes. They were folded in a pile next to him on the floor, missing just his shirt, which was currently in torn shreds somewhere in the room. Derek had replaced it with one of his own...

"Figures…" He grumbled. "Figures that damn wolf would be an insensitive OCD jerk." It took him a good few minutes to slip into his clothes. He'd paused for a moment when he came to the long sleeved grey shirt that Derek had folded there. He almost considered not putting it on, and just going with his jacket, but the memory of the fierce storm the night before finally convinced him to tug the too-large shirt on. It was too big in the shoulders, and all around him just a little baggy. It smelled like Derek…

"Doesn't even have the decency… morning cuddle… asshole." Pulling himself slowly to his feet, Stiles was trying to ignore the rubbery feeling in his knees, or the fact that his thighs burned like he'd strained muscles. In fact, his abs felt the same. A lot of his muscles were aching. Some he didn't even know he'd had, which was amazing considering the world of pain he always felt after running suicide drills for Lacrosse. Regardless, he wanted to leave. The spell from the night before was broken now, and he didn't want to stick around for Derek's rejection. Or what he was certain to be rejection.

Hobbling to the front door, Stiles was already trying to come up with excuses for his dad. Reasons why he was coming home, Christmas morning, with a limp. Most of them involved a heroic deed, ending with a romantic evening from the damsel in distress that he saved. Every time he tried to imagine the scenario, though, it ended up to a flashback of him, moaning out Derek's name. His cheeks were red and hot, as he furiously wrapped his scarf around his face.

Opening the front door, the scenery around the old house was like a fairy tale. The skies were clear and blue, making the thick snow all around reflect a blinding white glow. Stiles had to blink over and over, to adjust to the light. When he did, he noticed that the stairs had been cleared of snow. A path shoveled out his jeep, and further on, all the way to the road. Stiles was dumbfounded. Derek was nowhere to be seen at first.

Stiles took a deep breath, and slowly made his way down the few stairs. Walking on level ground wasn't that bad, but the shifting jostle of descent was almost enough to make him go back inside and burrow back into those blankets. The idea of his own bed was much more promising though, so he persevered and took a break at the bottom for a shaky breath. Opening his eyes, Stiles gaze was immediately drawn to the dark figure walking back up the shoveled out driveway. Derek was walking back up to the house with a shovel braced over his shoulder. Stiles watched him walk for a few moments. The man's face was red from the cold, his mouth parted to release foggy breaths. His hands were bare, jeans soaked to the knee…

"Idiot…" Stiles whispered quietly to himself, shaking his head a bit. Derek looked up sharply, as if he'd heard. It made Stiles glad his scarf was covering his blush. Now that Derek had realized he was standing there, watching, he sped up. Walking with long legged strides up to the house, Derek slowed only when he was a couple yards away.

"…You're up sooner than I expected." Stiles stared at Derek like he really was an idiot for that statement. That was going to be the first thing the other said to him after an… amazing night of sex and… Probably mistakes. Stiles sighed and tugged his scarf down off of his face.

"I'm an early bird, what can I say. Looks like you've been… up for a while." He replied, a sweeping glance around the shoveled drive indicating what he was referring to. Dereks jaw tightened and he gave a short nod.

"I didn't want you to have to stay longer than you needed to." Stiles flinched at the comment, breath catching. Okay. So that's how it was. There was the dismissal.

"Alright, well… That's great. Awesome. Thanks. I'll get out of your hair. Have a Happy Kwanza or whatever." He replied in a stilted tone. Stiles bit back the discomfort and walked around Derek towards the jeep. There was a long moment of confused silence as Derek watched Stiles back.

"Do you want me to drive you h-"

"Nope. Wouldn't wanna waste your time, man. It's cool. Thanks for putting me up for the night. We're even, I guess. So yeah. Don't freeze. Later." Stiles sharply cut off Dereks offer as he climbed up into his jeep, slamming the door shut. It took him a few infuriating minutes to get his key in the ignition. Every second that he fumbled, he felt a prickling heat in his eyes and a swollen lump in his throat forming. Mentally he was berating himself, and ordering himself to be a man, to not cry.

Finally, the jeeps engine stuttered to a start, and he was off, driving down the path Derek had shoveled.

"No! You don't cry, Stiles! You dumb little shit! Be a fucking man!" He yelled at himself, at the windshield. "What the fuck were you expecting? Morning cuddles and breakfast in bed? Don't be naïve. Ugh… God, Stiles, you're so stupid! You actually thought he liked you?!" Pulling to a stop when he finally reached the turn onto road, Stiles took a few deep breaths, and closed his eyes, wanting to hit his head repeatedly against the steering wheel.

"I can't believe I actually bought all that shit about his wolf wanting me, and being mates and… fuck…" Stiles whined out quietly, chewing on his bottom lip. The moisture in his eyes was carefully restrained; A culmination of his emotional turmoil, and the fact that he was really feeling the pain in his back now.

"Face it… You got fucked over… " Inhaling a few times, Stiles finally pulled his jeep out of park, and turned onto the road, driving home slowly, and carefully. If he got in a car accident, his father would kill him. Flat out murder. By the time he got home, there was no evidence on his face of having been on the brink of tears. He pulled into the driveway, and headed inside, to celebrate Christmas with his dad, and then sleep, possibly until next year.

Stiles tried. He really did try to sleep the entire week. He could have done it, too, if Scott hadn't shown up to drag him out into the world. Luckily, by the time that happened, Derek's scent had faded from his body and the man's shirt was shoved into the bottom of his closet under a pile of other clothes.. He didn't think he could handle Scott pestering him about that, honestly. So when his best friend came over, about 3 days after Christmas, Stiles was incredibly relieved that he didn't say anything.

At first, it was really weird hanging out with Scott and Isaac. He had really thought that he might end up as a third wheel. Yet, after a day spent playing out in the snow like little kids again, he found himself feeling a bit better. It had turned out to be a very welcome distraction. It wasn't until late that night when Stiles drove Scott and Isaac back to Scott's house, that he and his friend were alone. The blond wolf had gone ahead into the house.

"Hey… Stiles… You're okay, right?" Scott asked after a moment of hesitation. It surprised Stiles into looking over sharply. He felt as if all of the sudden he had 'I fucked Derek' written all over his face. Though he knew Scott wasn't THAT intuitive. Still, it made him realize how little credit he gave his friend sometimes.

"Yeah… Yeah man, I'm okay." He replied finally, nodding slowly as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. His fingertips drumming lightly on his steering wheel. Scott only looked more concerned.

"You sure? I mean, I know it's been a slow winter, and we haven't hung out much… You smell really…" Those words kicked up Stiles heartbeat a little, but he tried to keep calm. "I dunno… depressed?" A sigh of relief.

"Don't worry about me Scott. I'm okay, I promise. You know Christmas has always been a bit of a touchy holiday in the Stilinski house. I'm fine. Now, get in there, you have a cute ass blonde werewolf waiting in your bedroom for you, and you're sitting out here talking to me?" Stiles joked, laughing. Laughter was good. It covered the harder to hide emotions.

Scott's face went red, and he hissed at Stiles to shut up. After a moment, Scott sobered and he opened the door to the jeep again. "Are you coming to Lydia's New Years party?" He asked suddenly, as if he'd just remembered. Stiles had completely forgotten about that… His first instinct was to decline, but after a moment of biting his tongue, he grinned.

"Dude, are you kidding? And give up another chance to woo the hottest girl in town? I'll be there. Text me later, alright? I'm going into video game seclusion until then." Scott looked at him quietly for a long moment, before finally nodding, and climbing out of the car.

"See you later." Scott called, waving over his shoulder, before running up the walk to his front door. Stiles just shook his head, and shifted the jeep out of park, pulling back onto the road. Sometimes he really underestimated his friend.

Walking into his empty house, Stiles felt lonelier than he had when he'd woken up that afternoon. It was like he was suddenly sharply aware of how alone he was in the absence of his friends.

"Dad?" Stiles called out as he stepped inside the house, waiting a moment in the silence, before shutting the door behind him. The lights were all off, so he went into the kitchen. A note sat on the counter, telling Stiles that his dad wouldn't be home till morning. Stiles shook his head with a heavy sigh before walking to the fridge. Standing there for a good 2 minutes staring at the contents, he didn't see anything to wake his appetite. So with another sigh just as heavy as the one before, he shut the fridge and headed up to his room.

Nothing seemed to satisfy him. His video games couldn't hold his attention for more than half an hour. He turned on his TV, only to shut it back off minutes later. Eventually, Stiles ended up taking a shower out of boredom. His hands grazing over the scratches left on his hips, feeling the bruises on the back of his neck from Derek's blunt teeth…

Angrily, Stiles shut off the shower, climbing out and toweling off until his skin was red. He furiously brushed his teeth, and walked into his room to tug on a pair of boxers. As if on auto pilot, Stiles found himself digging through his closet, finally coming up with Dereks shirt. Sniffing at it, there was finally a twinge of something. Some kind of satisfaction that it still smelled like him. Stiles shrugged the shirt on, and flopped onto his bed. He was asleep, before he could notice the figure sitting at his windowsill.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mmmn….I-I'm just… ahh…. Really worried, about him… mnn… you know?" Scott breathed out in faltering words. His face contorted a little as he tensed and then relaxed again. "Oh, right there…" Isaac grunted a little, and lifted his head with a huff.

"Are you really going to talk about this right now?" He asked with a frown. Scott sighed, and licked his lips a bit.

"I'm sorry, I'm just… Stiles is never like this. It's confusing. He reeks of Derek, and every time I bring Derek up, his heart just about beats out of his chest." Scott rolled his shoulder, an itch on his bare skin.

"I'm sure it's something that he and Derek can work out." Isaac really felt awkward about this topic. His Alpha was strong, and capable of handling himself. Isaac didn't presume to understand why he did anything. Leaning down, the blond werewolf slid his hands back over Scotts back, touching his flesh as he got back to work.

"Oh… God, Isaac… You're so good at that…" Scott groaned deeply, eyes fluttering closed. "Mmm." Was the only reply he received. For a few minutes, the only sounds that filled the room were deep, throaty groans. "Hnnng…. Isaac….. Are you really sure they'll work it out on their own?" Scott interrupted again. Isaac gave an exasperated sound, sitting up and leaning back.

"Scott, you're the one who asked me to give you a back rub, you're not exactly helping yourself relax." Isaac groused, shifting aside so Scott could roll over and sit up too. He absently scratched at his shirtless chest.

"Sorry. It's just that He's my best friend, and I feel so helpless right now because he won't tell me what's wrong. " Isaac frowned and reached over, setting his hand on Scott's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Scott… This is Stiles we're talking about. He'll be okay. He'll bounce back. I bet, by midnight tomorrow night, he'll be right back to normal. If he's not, that I fully support you growling at Derek for some resolution." Scott didn't seem too convinced at the moment but he gave a little nod.

"Alright. That sounds like a plan I guess." Isaac was relieved that Scott accepted it, finally. He wanted the other to stop worrying about this. Easier said than done. Scott still looked distracted, but that wouldn't change until he was sure Stiles was better from whatever was going on between him and Derek.

"We just need a distraction. Let's watch a movie, okay?" Isaac suggested, handing the Xbox remote to Scott, before relaxing. Flicking the TV on, Scott sighed and navigated to Netflix, eventually finding a movie he and Isaac agreed on. With the remotes set aside, he leaned back against the other, and tried to relax.

"You're really going to wear that?" Isaac asked incredulously from where he perched, in the doorway of Scotts bedroom. The room they had been sharing for a couple weeks now. Scott looked at him in confusion and worry.

"What? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" His voice took on a higher pitch for a moment as he looked down at himself. He had on a pair of jeans and a hoody, both a little ratty from wear and tear.

"Nothing, if you're going to school or hunting a Kanima. This is Lydia's New Year's party. It's kind of the biggest party of the year, next to her birthday. You need to look the part. Which I know you're capable of. I saw you at the dance, you know? I know you clean up well." Isaac's lips took on a crooked slant of a grin as he headed over to Scott's closet, starting to rifle through his clothes. Scott whined a little in his throat.

"I'm not good at this kind of thing. What does it matter what I wear? No one's going to notice." His complaint was weak, as Isaac started to toss some clothes at him.

"Humor me." Was his amused quip. Another few moments passed, and Scott was re-dressed. This time, he'd pulled on a pair of clean black jeans and a grey button down. Over the top, Isaac had insisted he put on a darker grey vest.

"You really think Stiles is gonna show up tonight?" Scott asked as he had been in the bathroom, changing.

"Yes, Scott. I have a feeling he won't be able to resist." Isaac's tone was lofty, but to a trained ear it was evident there was more meaning behind his words. Scott was oblivious. A black tie and some tousling of the hair later, Isaac was satisfied, grinning as Scott emerged from the bathroom again, sighing.

"Okay?" He was obviously impatient. Isaac chuckled and nodded.

"Very okay." The way he looked Scott over with a slow sweep of his eyes was a little more than obvious. Enough to turn even Scotts cheeks pink.

"Alright… er… Okay, let's head out, then. We're already fashionably late."

It wasn't until the party had already started that Stiles had forced himself to get up from bed. His phone jingling on his desk was enough to rouse him. Even though he was certain it was just going to be Scott hounding him to come out… Maybe he wanted a reason to get out. If he stayed in for one more depressing night, Stiles wasn't sure he'd make it to morning without going insane. When he saw the text lingering on his screen, though, the surprise was enough to make him pause. Immediately, his heart was beating a little faster.

_'Stiles, I want to talk to you at the party tonight._

_-D.'_

Stiles wasn't surprised to see it had come from a blocked number. Derek changed numbers often, skipping from different 'pay as you go' plans. He was mostly just surprised to see it at all. So Derek was going… And he wanted to talk? Was this going to be the full on rejection he was anticipating? Or was Derek going to apologize and try to ask that they pretend it never happened? Maybe Derek had just needed space, and was ready to try a rela-"Don't you even start getting your hopes up, Stilinski." Stiles scolded himself, closing his phone and letting out a rough sigh, running his hand over his mussed, unkempt hair.

Hair… Clothes… 9 o'clock…

"Shit! I'm late!" Going right into turbo-drive, Stiles dove into the worlds shortest shower, before fighting with his closet to try and get clothes onto his body. Three attempts later, he had on a clean pair of jeans, and a button up shirt, left un-tucked and free of a tie. Stiles had also gotten all the way to his jeep before he realized he'd left the house without shoes on. Running back in, he very nearly fell on his face, trying to hop into a pair of socks and his sneakers.

"Stiles, are you okay? What's the rush?" Sheriff Stilinski demanded as he walked up to the base of the staircase, watching his son try to navigate himself down while simultaneously struggling into his jacket.

"Late for a party, dad. No worries. See you next year, and all those puns, love ya!" Stiles called out as he darted out the door, leaving it open for his confused dad to close. The whole drive to Lydia's, he was anxious, palms sweating as he gripped his steering wheel, constantly glancing to the clock on his dashboard.

"Are you coming, Derek?" Erica asked, leaning on one of the many wooden beams in the empty depot. Derek split his time between this place, and the old Hale house on the hill. It was New Year's Eve, and everyone was supposed to show up at Lydia's for the big party. "This year's been a hell of a doozy, I think we all deserve some fun. Including you…" Boyd was waiting just outside for her.

Derek shook his head quietly, focused blankly on the newspaper in front of him. He'd read the same sentence 5 times but still had no idea what it said.

"No, you go ahead. Behave yourselves. I don't want to have to deal with any dead bodies tonight." Erika sighed, and rolled her eyes.

"Fine, you fuddy-duddy. Try to not go to bed too early." Erica teased, starting to leave as Derek sent her a half-hearted huff of disapproval.

"I'll sleep when I want to." He called after her. Erica's laughter was distant, but he heard it well enough. He also heard the car start when she and Boyd finally left.

"So how are we going to get him out of the house now?" Boyd asked as he drove his beat up Hatchback. Derek had helped him find, and acquire the car for himself. His parents hadn't been able to afford a car for him. Boyd had managed to save up enough from working at the ice rink, that with a little bit of help from his Alpha, he'd found a car he could afford. Becoming a wolf had helped him in so many ways. Erica smiled over at him. Her phone was in her hands.

"I have my ways." She sang out mischievously. Tapping away at her phone, it was minutes later that Dereks phone would start to buzz and jingle.

_'Hey, Sourwolf, you better be at the party tonight. You and me got some talking to do._

_-Stiles.'_

Derek couldn't have felt more out of place, if he were at a Ladies tea party. Standing amidst the teens, and college students as well, he felt like one big, dark, sore thumb that everyone made a point to avoid while simultaneously staring and talking about him.

Mentally, he gave Stiles 5 more minutes to show up before he left. That was a fair amount of time. Derek found himself trying to find reasons to stay, and wait. Latching onto his packmates, and Scott when he finally found them.

"Where is he?" Derek demanded impatiently, glancing around even as his hand gripped Scotts shoulder tightly. Surprised, Scott looked up at him.

"Who?"

"Who do you think? Stiles!" His fingers gripping a little tighter. Scott pulled away, glaring at Derek. Just in time, Isaac intervened, pulling Scott back a half step, arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders.

"He's on his way, Derek. I'm sure of it." Isaac insisted. Not far away, Erica and Boyd had been dancing, and listening.

"Relax! Have some fun Derek! Seriously. We never get to hang out and party with you. Think of it like… Pack bonding!" She suggested, her arms looped around Boyds neck.

"Pack bonding?" A new voice entered the mix. Stiles finally stumbled up to them, unsteady from being knocked into by some pair of kids making out desperately. "Woah, jeeze, get a room guys. No sex is safe sex, but if you have sex, use latex!" He called after them, grinning and laughing before turning to face his group of friends. He had to admit, since Scott had become a wolf his social group had definitely expanded. Going from a two-man virgin loser-fest to at least a fivesome.

"Uh, yeah. Pack bonding. We're at a party, all of us, so it's a good time to have fun and be… a pack, right Scott?" Isaac supplied. Scott took the hint after a confused moment and nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Why shouldn't we let loose, and start the New Year off right?" Derek was getting tired of this.

"Yeah, well, you guys 'bond'. I'm borrowing this." He motioned to Stiles, grabbing the teen by the upper arm, and dragging him off to the other side of the part. Derek could hear the others pulse leap.

"W-woah man! It can wait, right?" _'Until I'm drunk and can handle this?'_ Stiles finished in his head, licking his lips and looking around for a distraction, some way to get away. His body was short circuiting with Dereks hand on him even if it was through the clothes.

"No, Stiles, it can't wait. I think it's waited long enough, hasn't it? Besides, I'm only hear because you asked me to be. " Derek stared down at the confused Stiles, frowning deeply. Why was Stiles looking at him like he was crazy?

"What are you talking about? Did you get in a fight and knock a screw loose? Derek, you're the one that practically demanded I be here to taaaalkgoddammit we've been duped. Oldest trick in the book. Man, I thought this only happened in cheesy movies and bad TV shows." Stiles whined, rubbing a hand against his temple. Derek sighed heavily, rolling his eyes and shifting.

"I'm going to skin each of them and make a teen-skin rug." He griped, about to stalk back to the rest of his pack. Stiles hand on his wrist stopped him short though, glancing over with stormy eyes to the thin-fingered grip. Slowly, he followed the line of the others hand up his arm, and shoulder, neck, to Stiles freckled face. He looked tired, with dark circles under his usually bright eyes. Swallowing, Dereks jaw tensed for a moment, and he leaned back on his heals to show he was staying put.

"We're both here. Against our will, I guess, but… But we might as well talk, right? I mean, if your week was anything like mine, you probably need it as much as I do." That was enough to get Derek to agree.


	6. Chapter 6

"So… yeah… Talking…" Stiles pulled his hand back to himself, frowning a little as he shifted from one foot to the other, redistributing his weight out of un-ease. Derek had turned his body slightly, to look back to the other. A lengthy moment of awkward silence passed between them as Derek stared intently at Stiles. Had they always been the same height? How had he missed that?

Regardless, he wasn't missing anything now. He watched as Stiles swallowed, and worried at his lips with a row of straight, white teeth. The anxious flicker of his eyes as he waited. Waited?

"You want me to start?" Derek realized, out loud. Of course he was greeted with Stiles exasperation.

"Well, yeah! Why should I go first?" He demanded. Derek gritted his teeth.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because talking could be your super-power if you had one?" He retorted. That actually made Stiles break into a grin before he forced it off his face by rubbing his fingers over his lips.

"No, you don't get to make me laugh yet! I'm still mad at you, Derek." Stiles chastised, running a hand over his scalp with a sigh. "I don't really even… know where to begin. You're the one who's emotionally constipated." Derek immediately took offense to that, regardless of how true it was.

"I'm not... You are so… This isn't… You're impossible, you know that?" Derek sighed as he got the words out. Stiles was looking at him in awe.

"Wow… You really are bad at this. I figured you didn't talk much to maintain that sexy, mysterious bad boy image you have going on." Stiles looked like he was going to take pity on Derek, stepping a half of a pace closer.

"Derek…" Stiles started, with baited breath. "I don't get it. I understand that what happened…. That was just a one-time thing. I know it was a mistake, now. You made that perfectly clear." Confusion flickered over Dereks face as he frowned at Stiles.

"What exactly did I make 'perfectly clear', Stiles? I never said it was a mistake." He replied firmly. Stiles shook his head and looked away, running his tongue over his lips quickly.

"Oh really? Then what do you call getting up and shoveling out a whole path, an acre long, of snow and ice, just to get rid of me?" Stiles demanded, hands raising to gesture along with his words. Just as he had one hand flung out to the side, Lydia was dancing by them. She thrust a glass of champagne into his hand and then another one to Derek who was too surprised to decline.

"Drink up, boys. If you want something harder, look in the kitchen." The red head winked and skirted away, to continue handing out refreshments to the rest of the party. Stiles looked at the glass for a moment before downing the whole thing and focusing back on Derek.

"You thought I did that because I _wanted_ you to leave? Stiles no that's not-"

"You are SO hot ohmygod kiss me!" Suddenly, out of nowhere, a girl was plastered onto Dereks front, pawing at him drunkenly. The only thing Derek seemed to be able to do is tilt his head up and away from her, looking at Stiles in mild panic. He didn't want to shove her away and hurt her on accident but that was very close to happening. Rolling his eyes, Stiles grabbed her by the waist and pulled her away from Derek firmly, turning her to face a different direction.

"Go kiss him, he has the hots for you." Stiles urged, pushing her towards one of the college kids that had made it to the party. She giggled, and stumbled over to him eagerly.

"Jesus… Come on, let's go somewhere private." Derek suggested, looking around uneasily. Stiles shook his head as he reached over, taking Dereks champagne, tossing it back just as he had with the first glass.

"Since you can't get drunk anyway. And no I know what happens in private. I get shoved up against a wall and threatened. We can talk here. I'll divert the sluts. Now, you were saying?" Stiles wasn't going to budge. He looked into Dereks dark eyes expectantly. They were grey in the dim light of Lydia's back yard. Derek looked at him for a moment, imploringly.

"I… I didn't _want_ you to leave, Stiles. I didn't want you to be trapped there with me, when you woke up and realized…" Derek faltered, lost for words as he took in a deep breath, and then released it.

"Oh stop looking at me like a lost puppy." Stiles gave in, shaking his head, and rubbing his temple. His hand shifted down to scratch a little at his jaw. "So… what I'm gathering… Is that you were trying to get the jump on me, before I… demanded to leave and break your heart or something?" It sounded ridiculous, but Derek's eyebrows furrowed together, and he gave a short nod.

"Something like that." He said quietly. Almost too quietly for Stiles to catch, but he was able to red lips well enough to understand. Mind blown, Stiles turned away from a moment, rubbing the back of his neck with both hands. This was… Not what he had expected. Not at all "Stiles, I…" Derek started, but again, lost his words. Stiles turned back to face him, hands falling to his sides heavily.

"That morning, I thought you were kicking me out. You had what you needed, and were done. And then, I got home, and for a week, I didn't hear from you, or see you… I thought that was a pretty clear sign that it didn't mean anything to you. Can you blame me for thinking that?" Derek shook his head.

"You didn't see me, but… I saw you." He admitted quietly. Derek cast his eyes off to the side, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"What do you mean? Were you stalking me or something?" Stiles demanded, though he wasn't exactly angry about it.

"No! I… No. I just, checked in on you a couple times… Just to make sure you were okay. I know that you were hurting physically, after that…" He was making excuses to a point. Stiles could tell that much. Some of it was true though.

"Derek… Tell me the truth." Stiles demanded. He was looking straight at Dereks eyes. When he finally returned the stare, Derek's multi-colored gaze said everything. "You thought I was the one rejecting you. That I didn't want you. That I thought it was all a mistake." It was a long moment, before Derek gave another short nod.

"I didn't blame you for it. I… If it was me, I wouldn't have wanted to stick around with me either." Stiles almost gave a straight up whine. Derek had obviously perfected the art of the 'kicked-puppy-look'. No way in hell was that fair.

"No, Derek that's not... Are you kidding me? Look at yourself. I wanted a second round when I woke up, but you were gone. Are you really so thick that you never realized that I've wanted you –like that and more- for a long ass time?" Derek scoffed a little and shook his head before shifting as a line of people walked by, too close for comfort. Subsequently, the space between him and Stiles was now non-existent. Chest to chest, Derek closed his eyes and breathed out as evenly as he could, resting his forehead against Stiles'.

"No. You're smart, and any smart person would realize that I'm a horrible person to want." Derek whispered. His eyes remained closed, but Stiles took the opportunity to try and count the man's dark eyelashes. There were so many of them.

"Oh don't give me that self-loathing bullshit Derek. Everyone at this party wants you. You're hot. You're sexy and mysterious and you have a boner-inducing car. What they don't know, that I do, is that you're loyal, protective, and lonely." Stiles raised a hand to rest on the side of Dereks neck so that he could stroke his thumb over his stubble. "I swear… I've probably been in love with you since I had to drive you around in my jeep for 6 hours while you were dying. We save each-other's lives too much to not have feelings, I think." Derek swallowed thickly, his hands coming to rest on Stiles hips.

"See? I told you that you were smart." He murmured, finally lifting his heavy eyelids. Before Stiles could speak again, Derek fit his mouth firmly over the teens parted lips, gripping him tightly as he tasted him. It was almost like the first time all over again, but this time he knew the flavor on his tongue. It was completely Stiles, with a taint of alcohol from the champagne.

His words had been cut off so abruptly that Stiles entered the kiss with an un-masculine squeak, inhaling deeply through his nose before pressing back into it, grazing his tongue eagerly over Derek's lips only to gain access into his mouth. Stiles hadn't realized how desperately he had wanted even just a kiss from Derek until he'd had to go a week without one. His hand slid just a few inches upwards to lace his fingers into Dereks pitch colored hair while his other fisted into the collar of his leather jacket.

"Mmmn…. Stiles…" Derek tried to interrupt the kiss, but Stiles wasn't allowing it. He nipped at one of the others lips, before pulling him right back into the deep lip-lock. It was minutes before Derek could get another word out. "Can we find that private place now? I want to shove you against a wall." He implored in a gritty voice.  
"OhmyGOD you can't just say things like that Derek, but fuck yes we can find a room." Before Derek could act on the proposal, Stiles had him by the hand and was dragging him into the house. Lydia was in the kitchen, so Stiles made a bee-line for her. "Hey, Lydia, could you do me a solid and let Derek and me borrow your room for a bit? We won't stain anything. I know you keep it locked during parties." Stiles was prepared to beg.

"Thank God, finally you two. It's about damn time you got yourselves sorted out! But no, you can't use my room, ew. Here." Lydia handed them a key. "You can use my sister's old room. Upstairs, the door at the end of the hall. Have fun!" Stiles was bright red in the face as he clutched the key in his hand. Derek wasn't much better off, following behind Stiles through the crowds of people. He'd been a teenager at one point. He knew what it meant when a couple walked up the stairs, and all the people watching them would know too.

"Don't be too long! The ball drops in 30 minutes!" Lydia's voice rang out after them.

The moment they got into the bedroom, though, door closed and locked behind them, none of that mattered anymore. It was just him, and Stiles. Like he promised, Derek hauled Stiles up against the wall by his shirt. Gasping, Stiles mouth fell open as Dereks mouth latched onto the side of his neck, drawing on the skin until a purple bruise blossomed. The sensation had Stiles squirming and gripping Derek's leather-encased biceps.

"Fuck… Get this off." He demanded, starting to push the fabric off, to get his hands on the thin cotton that separated him from Derek's body. The heavy jacket fell to the floor just as Stiles fingertips scrabbled at the hem of Derek's shirt, hauling it up to get his skin on the others flesh.

Derek was completely focused on littering his claim all over Stiles neck, and down his shoulder s and chest. "W-woah, hey… You gonna take responsibility for those, wolf boy?" Stiles demanded in a stuttering voice. His face had taken on a ruddy complexion as blood rose to his cheeks.

"Yes." Derek bit out firmly, surprising Stiles. Gripping Derek's hair, and pulled, Stiles forced Dereks head up to look at him.

"You weren't joking, about the mating thing? That night, you said that your wolf wanted me. That wasn't just… talk?" He wanted to know, needed to know. Derek's eyes were bleeding red a little. He nodded.

"Yes. I meant it."

That was enough for Stiles. He groaned and pulled Dereks shirt up even more, lowering his mouth to pay attention to his chest for a while. Derek braced his hands against the wall with his eyes closed for the moment, enjoying being touched.

"So what does that mean for us?" Stiles asked between playful bites and kisses. The flat of his tongue grazing over one of Derek's nipples. He could feel the skin draw tight and pucker under his touch. Derek shivered a little, head drooping.

"What do you mean?" He ground out between his teeth. He was trying to keep in control this time.

"Are we dating now? Is this going to be a thing? Or are we going to end up repeating the last week over again? Because I don't know if I can handle that." Stiles leaned up, facing Derek eye to eye for the moment. Derek opened his eyes to look back.

"Do you want that? Is that something you would want with me? To be… a thing?" He returned to the other, watching Stiles.

"Uh, duh, man. I know you're thinking with the wrong head right now, but yeah. That's kind of the whole point. So, alright. We're a thing now. Dating. Boyfriends kind of thing. Awesome. " Grinning like an idiot, Stiles grabbed Derek by the hair and pulled him into a hard kiss, suddenly turning the tables. Derek wasn't anticipating the teen spinning them, but before he could even start to kiss back, his shoulders hit the wall. Stiles was plastered against him, so he didn't struggle. Instead, he focused on running his hands over every inch of Stiles that he could reach. Always, his hands ended up back on his ass, gripping firmly.

"I don't know about you…" Stiles broke out breathlessly, grinding against Derek through their jeans. "But I don't have any lube and you're not bringing that monster near my ass without any." Derek groaned a little, hitting his head back against the wall.

"Shit… No, I don't have any. I… Do you have a condom?" He asked, looking down to Stiles who was fumbling out his wallet.

"Ah… yeah, but it won't fit you." He admitted with a deeper blush to his cheeks. Derek smirked a little at his shame, and took the foil wrapper from Stiles with a kiss.

"Oh I think it'll fit just fine." He murmured, sinking down to his knees in front of Stiles. It was the others turn to brace his hands on the wall after replacing his wallet in his pocket. Not that his pants were on much longer. Derek had pulled open his fly, and then tugged off his pants and underwear in one smooth motion. Stiles barely had time to yelp at the startling turn of events when the sound melted into a groan.

"Oh fuck, your mouth, Derek…So… fuck… Hnng…" Stiles had a new favorite activity. He was sure of it. Derek had such a soft mouth, he never wanted to leave it. Derek was still in control though. His firm grip on Stiles hips was a sharp reminder of that, as were the claws resting against his ass and hip-bones. For a few long minutes, Derek lavished Stiles long, slender length with his tongue and lips, bringing him to full arousal. His cock was throbbing, and deep red by the time it was free from Dereks torment. Stiles whined. Derek's hands on him kept him from thrusting forward instinctively to search for that warm cavern again.

Vision blurred, he only heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper. He certainly felt it, thought, when Derek unrolled the lubricated latex over his length. Blinking his eyes back to focus, Stiles stared down in awe at his own wrapped cock, until Derek stood.

"What, do you have a problem with this?" Derek asked when he saw the dumbfounded expression on Stiles face. Stiles was quick to shake his head.

"Hell no! This is god-good, I meant good, perfect, awesome… I mean, yes. I want… I'll fuck you." Derek rolled his eyes and turned his back to Stiles, facing the wall as he undid his jeans, pushing them down far enough to reveal his firm ass. Stiles could have started drooling. He was pretty sure he did, when he watched Derek spit onto his fingers, reaching back to start fingering himself. One forearm was braced against the wall in front of him to support his bent over form. Stiles licked his lips as he watched the show, finally reaching forward to grip Dereks tanned flesh, spreading him farther open. He'd have to remember to ask Derek later why he doesn't have any tan lines. At the moment, he was too focused on the two… no three fingers that were preparing that hole.

A hole that Stiles had never imagined he'd get to use. A painful throb of need clutched him, and Stiles leaned down, adding some more saliva to Dereks fingers, drizzling it down from above, to help him.

"Derek… fuck… fucking… fuck, I need you…" Stiles begged after a few more moments of listening to his boyfriend –wow he was never going to get used to that- grunt in effort. Derek tested himself again, before withdrawing his slick fingers, and nodding.

"Do it, Stiles. Fuck me." He ordered, eyes red as he glanced over his shoulder. Stiles tugged Dereks jeans down a little more, to make sure the fabric was out of the way, before lining himself up with his stretched orifice.

"Y-you're sure this is-"

"Fucking hell, Stiles, dammit! Fuck me!" Derek snarled. As if jumping to obey, Stiles gripped Derek's hips, and started to push in. Slowly. Too slowly. Derek pressed back into him hard, hilting Stiles inside of him swiftly. "Mmmnn…. " Derek groaned, a shiver wracking his spine as he took in the feeling of being full. If it had been anyone but Stiles…. "Are you going to move or what?" He demanded impatiently.

Stiles had been clutching Derek, desperate to keep him in one place for a little bit longer. If he moved yet, he'd cum, right then and there. He'd die of embarrassment if that happened. So he held still and breathed, until Dereks words woke him up and he started to pull back. After he'd withdrawn almost half way, Derek's hips snapped back to Stiles. He was still in control. He was going to set the pace, and honestly, that was more than alright with Stiles.

It was frenzied. Not like the slow, rough fuck that had been their first time. This one was meant to be quick and satisfying. Stiles was sure he'd be the first to cum at this rate and that was unacceptable. Reaching an arm around Dereks rocking hips, Stiles wrapped his hand around Derek's swollen cock and gathered up a glob of precum. It was the perfect lubrication and after just a few strokes Derek was thrusting wildly between his grip and his dick.

A snarl tore out of Derek's throat, and moments after, a pulsing torrent of cum splashed into Stiles fist. The intensely hot walls of his ass clamped down onto Stiles. A choked groan was all the teen could muster before he was overboard, filling the condom. A few tense seconds past of raw orgasm before Stiles slumped, feeling boneless against Dereks back, breathing hard.

It was Derek who moved first once he was recovered. He shifted his hips forward so that Stiles softening length slipped out of him. Derek turned, and took up Stiles hand, starting to lick up the wet remainders of his orgasm. He didn't stop until the flesh was clean. Hand free now, Stiles slipped off the condom, shakily tying it off and tossing it in the garbage before pulling his pants up. Derek was fixing his own clothes too.

"So… Uh… Wow. Yeah… We should do that again… sometime. If you want." Stiles started to ramble, embarrassed. Derek shook his head and leaned down to silence him with a kiss.

"You really do talk too much." He murmured. Pulling on his jacket, Derek fixed Stiles hair, and then his own. It was hopeless though. Everyone would know they fucked. Derek was oddly okay with that though, as Stiles ran to the bathroom for a moment. Hand in hand, they headed back down to the party. Derek had started to pull his hand away when they broke into the mass of people huddled around the projector. Stiles wasn't having any of that, though, lacing their fingers together, and pulling him over to their friends. The countdown was at two minutes now. Two minutes to midnight, and what was bound to be the best New Years of Stiles life. It was the first time he'd ever been kissed when the clock struck 12.


End file.
